Epidemic
by Hollyn Okumura
Summary: The epidemic spreading through Alfred and Matthew's hometown is no concern of theirs, but when Al's twin falls ill with this "disease", Alfred involves himself in finding out just what's causing this outbreak and how to put an end to it. Unfortunately the problem is bigger than he realizes and may just bring his untimely death. [Human names/Shiki-AU/Char death]
1. Underground

"Matt! Hey Matt! You hafta keep alive, dude! And keep breathing! Ok?" Alfred choked out, voice cracking as he practically begged his brother to keep awake. He stared at the dull, lifeless eyes of Matthew. Because of how gaunt his face had become and how his skin had ultimately paled to a ghastly white, he was almost unrecognizable. And from the dark rings underneath his once vibrant eyes coupled with his slow, weakened breathing, one could hardly tell he was alive at all. It was hard to grasp that his illness had escalated so quickly. In a time matter of only three days too! And now here Alfred was, looming over his unresponsive brother. He was sure that the younger twin was taking his last breathes and he couldn't stand it knowing there was nothing he could do to help.

Back when there was nothing wrong in the world with Matthew, they'd often joked around about this sort of thing, and thought up scenarios like this-like the spreading of the epidemic, and how Alfred would be the hero! Matthew would be his loyal sidekick and they'd be able to save the world from infection. But now something so terrible as that was now their reality, only rather than the heroic, happy end they'd thought up for themselves, it was far from where they wound up. Alfred knew this terrible disease had been spreading throughout their hometown. Matthew had too. But neither took it seriously. It couldn't possibly happen to them, right?

Not even when he first found Matthew unconscious outside their small, poor home, did Alfred stop and think it would come to this. There was such denial that this tragedy could befall them amongst the twins. In fact, it'd only been in the past few hours that he realized what the outcome of Matthew's sickness would be. He was distraught beyond belief. More than he ever thought he would be. More than he had been when the two mourned the loss of their mom and dad. Matthew was not only his twin brother and his best friend, but he was the only person he had in the entire world. And now… He was going to be gone. Just like that.

Alfred and Matthew had been orphaned a few years ago. They had stayed in foster care until they were both eighteen and of legal age to take care of themselves. And after they went off, they were completely alone, depending on no one but each other for anything. Never did they try to even get close to anyone else. These twins were inseparable and they were all the other needed.

Alfred swallowed hard, gripping Matthew's frail hand firmly in his own, shaking it in an attempt to get him to stop dying as if he'd become well again. When it became evident that he would not, Alfred choked back a sob and buried his face in the light, worn sheets covering most of Matthew's torso, about up to his chest. Alfred threw his free arm atop Matt, grabbing the sheets over his brother's body in one of his fists, still grasping Matthew's hand in the other. "Don't you dare die on me! You can't! You have to help me be the hero! We're gonna save the day!" There was a slight hesitation, "Remember?" He looked up at the dim lavender eyes. Oh, how empty they seemed. It was impossible to tell if Matthew could even hear him. Had he heard anything he said at all? If he did, he showed no attempt at response.

Shakily, Alfred lifted the hand that had wrinkled the sheets he clasped, to Matthew's neck. He'd heard somewhere to check for a pulse this way and he'd been consistently checking every hour or so. Since about noon that day, Alfred had scarcely been able to find Matthew's pulse as it had weakened so drastically. It was still there then, but… why couldn't he feel it now? Could it really be that Matthew had already died and he hadn't been able to pinpoint the exact moment when?

Alfred released a quivering breath and stared in horror. He didn't know what to do! They hadn't even been able to get a doctor. So many others were suffering that it had been impossible to even make an appointment in the next several weeks, especially for twins that didn't exactly contribute much to society. There were more important people in positions of power that needed care first and foremost. The town's hospital was booked and there wasn't enough educated staff. On top of that, those working against the epidemic, despite the numbers of people who contracted the disease, had little knowledge of what the cause was or how to treat it.

The blond, blue-eyed twin doubted he was even going to be able to have a proper funeral, burial, or anything. What was he going to do? Alfred could feel his whole body shaking. The boy was in utter shock. Matthew had gone and died on him and now he had no one! No one to talk to or confide in! No one he could trust! And the one person he had and could talk to in a situation like this was gone now... and forever more.

"Don't worry, Matt, I'll be back soon. I'll make sure you have a great burial!" Alfred announced loudly to his deceased twin as he straightened himself. He was trying desperately to not loose his emotions completely. If he did that, Matthew wouldn't be buried like he should be. He had to do it himself and that would be his motivation. In spite of this attempt to keep himself, however, tears still fell from his eyes and streaked down his face. He knelt once more by Matthew's bedside and retrieved the off-white, well-loved stuffed bear, Kumajirou, Matthew still carried with him. He lifted Matthew's cold, limp arm and tucked Kuma in with him.

It was darkening outside as Alfred turned from the deathbed of Matthew and stormed out the room. As soon as he hit the door leading to their small, rickety porch he took off running. He knew their neighbor had a sturdy shovel stowed in their tool shed. And Alfred would return it as soon as he was finished. The owner wouldn't even notice. Plus, even if his neighbor did realize he was missing his shovel, he doubted he'd realize it was him. They never really had much contact, as his neighbor didn't particularly care for rambunctious Alfred or his quiet twin whose name he always seemed to forget.

Alfred lowered himself under the wire fence and snuck to the tool shed in the covers of the shadows. The door was locked with a rusty bolt which he pulled on as quietly as possible. As soon as he'd wiggled it out of it's lock enough, he pulled the rotting wooden door in jerks. Dirt was being scraped up at the bottom from where the wood was probably swollen from humidity. When Alfred slipped in through the crack in the doorway he made the splintering wooden frame caught on his shirt and broke off as he brushed past. He was breathing hard, barely able to keep his focus in finding the shovel in the darkness of the shed. Finally his trembling hands found the shaft of the shovel and he tried in vain to get a firm grip on it.

Now dragging it behind him, he trudged to the edge of the woods, dragging his feet along. Regardless of sun having set and nighttime falling, with what Alfred had just experienced he did not care, nor was he exactly thinking straight. He just needed to find a place where Matthew could rest in peace, somewhere he'd be comfortable.

And finally he came to a nice spot. The dirt where he stood on barefoot was powdery on top, perfectly soft so he could begin shoveling. The place he chose wasn't one that held any meaning to either of them, but it was close to their home. The remaining twin would be able to visit it every single day. Finally unable to remain even somewhat composed he buried the shovel into the ground with as much force as he could muster. He pounded it further into the dirt with his foot, stepping on it to get a nice clump of soil and pry it out of the ground. He unearthed it, and tossed the bit of earth over his shoulder. He repeated this until he heard an unfriendly voice speaking. He slowed only for a moment though before he continued, working even harder than he had before, convincing himself it was nothing. He nearly tricked himself into believing it too before a hand landed on his shoulder with a firm, steady grip. The opposite of how his whole person was. He let the shovel fall and create a cloud of loose dirt as the stranger's hand spun him around to look him in the eye.

* * *

**Well... this was intense, dramatic, and depressing to write. I hope you guys enjoyed it. I swear it'll be less gloomy in future chapters. This AU is based off the anime, Shiki, however the plot details, and events, as well as the characters are not relevant so this isn't what I consider a cross-over. Only the mere overall idea of Shiki is present and the similarities end there.**

**For pairings, I haven't really decided on them. There are bound to be a lot of them hinted at, but I'm just going to let those take their course.**


	2. Unaware

Alfred's heavy, uneven gasps didn't tone down one bit, even as he stared into the the green eyes of the man confronting him.

"Answer me, won't you?" His neighbor, Arthur, asked. When his question was responded to with a blank stare from a sniveling Alfred, he sighed and repeated what he said in the first place. "I'm assuming you didn't catch what I just asked. What are you doing out here at this hour? It's dangerous," he warned sternly. The man had no clue why he was out here like this, sobbing so greatly. He looked very angry, as if he was venting frustrated. And to be honest Arthur had been unaware that his younger neighbor could show such emotion. He was clearly hurting… but… why?

Alfred jerked his shoulder away forcefully and wiped his nose with his dirt covered wrist, simultaneously smudging dirt under his nose and across his cheek. "And whatever you're up to, why do you need my shovel for it?" He lightened his tone a little bit seeing that Alfred was clearly very distraught. Maybe a gentler approach would get some information out of him.

"I have to borrow it. I can't tell you why. You don't care. Jus- Just leave me alone!" He wound up shouting. He tried putting up a tougher facade. Maybe it'd intimidate his neighbor into leaving. "Go away!"

"I can't just walk away! Do you have any idea how suspicious you look? Out in the night, digging with a shovel! My shovel! It looks like you're out to bury a dead body!"

Alfred turned back around, any attempt at hiding how pained he looked, shattered. He glared with his sad, blue eyes from behind his glasses at Arthur and sniffled.

"Oh my go- You're hiding a body, aren't you?! Bloody hell!" Arthur grabbed his wrist again only for Alfred to wrench it almost instantly out of his grip.

"No! I'm not…" He sniffled, "hiding a body. I'm going to hold a funeral for my Matthew!"

Matthew, Matthew… Who was Matthew? Ah yes! Alfred's twin that always followed him. "Your brother? But why? You didn't… did you?"

"No! He caught that stupid epidemic thing and- and nobody would help us, or come see him and help him at all!" Alfred fell onto his knees by the decent sized pothole he'd made by now. "He left me… and… he's gone… I don't know what else to do. I just at least want him to have a nice grave…"

Arthur had to admit. He felt a pang of guilt when Alfred told him this. And thinking back on it… They'd been asking for help, trying to get into the doctor's office. And Arthur knew it. He just didn't do anything to aide them. He could have. And now one of them was dead. Leaving the other alone.

He really didn't care that much for the twins ever. They were just other neighbors. Obnoxious neighbors at that. "I'm sorry to hear of your loss," was all he could say in condolence. In that moment though when he looked up at the younger man before him, he froze as two red elliptical orbs flashed by behind Alfred. "As much as I… feel for you, you really need to come with me this instant!" He burst suddenly.

"No way! I've got to make sure Matt gets buried!"

Arthur released an anxious, frustrated sigh as a nervous tick started in his leg. "Look. Unless you want to wind up like- like Martin-"

"Matthew," Alfred corrected.

"Right Matthew. Unless you want to end up dead just as he is now, you must come into my house with me. It's for your own good. Not that I really care if you decide to toss away your life." That was partially a lie. Arthur really didn't care if he died, or he wouldn't have, had the means of death as he thought of them were different.

"So then, why can't I just 'toss away my life'? It's not like I have anyone anymore! I'd much rather just get it over with since it'll probably happen to me eventually! Save myself some of the pain!"

"If that happened though, there would be no one to bury your brother or you. And I'm certainly not going to help you bury him if you're dead. Now you can come with me and I can help you tomorrow, or you can catch whatever disease he had."

"You'll help me give him a funeral if I go with you?" Arthur nodded in response. It wasn't very much worth his time, but he would do it. "Fine." Alfred breathed in and out unevenly, still trying to catch his breath. He picked up the shovel he'd let fall to the ground, staring at Arthur all the while with a hard unblinking stare. He straightened himself out and stepped forward, his crying finally ceased for the most part. The British man reached his hand out to take the shovel but Alfred kept it gripped tightly in his hand and brushed past him.

Al figured he could be nicer since Arthur was offering to help bury Matthew, but he had to confess, he was pretty ticked at the Brit. Why couldn't he have offered help when it wasn't too late? When Matthew was still alive? Why wait for something this awful to happen?

Arthur rubbed his forehead in exasperation. Wonderful. Now he was going to have a moody, probably depressed teenager in his house until Matthew's entire presence was gone. He tailed Alfred until they were both inside his home. Alfred shuffled inside. He'd never seen the internal part of Arthur's house except through the windows which he usually didn't pay attention to. Therefore, he didn't know where the light switch was. He did, however, hear the door lock click after Arthur shut them in. The American's head whipped around to face where he knew Arthur was in the darkness.

Then with the flick of a light switch, Arthur spoke again, "Safety precautions. Don't unlock this door for anyone if you don't mind." Alfred shrugged one shoulder and waved him off. As much as he honestly couldn't care less to hear his neighbor rant about his life and it was something he could gladly pass up would it not make him feel guilty later, he decided it'd be a good idea for them to just sit and talk. He looked like he needed it.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Have a seat. I think it'd be good for you to tal-" Arthur began, but stopped in mid sentence.

Alfred's eyes were wandering the room. For the most part and from what he could see, Arthur's home was not only quaint, but fully functional and well-kept as well. Unlike Matthew's and his place. It was quaint, but it was also very shabby and hardly anything ever worked. What caught Alfred's attention though was not the spick-and-span order that was kept in the house, but the odd decor choice. The amount of old sorcery books that lined the walls in the next room, collecting dust save for a few. The ornaments resembling dreamcatchers, but with pentagrams in the middle that were tacked up to the ceiling. What was this guy? A black magic buff?

From the year of living next door to him, Alfred had observed that he rarely left his house. Sometimes he'd leave to go to the "pub" and come back drunk. Sometimes he'd sit in the rocking chair on the front porch reading the paper or some book. And he almost never tended to his overgrown garden of weeds. So yes, Alfred guessed he was anti-social for the most part. But it hadn't really crossed his mind that he was this sort of neighbor. A creepy obsessive who probably collected oddities and had weird fetishes. He definitely came off as a superstitious fanatic of this sort of thing.

Alfred looked back to Arthur as he took his seat. The shorter man had already seated himself and had his chin placed against his palm, propping himself up with his forearm. He stared at Alfred with those green eyes. And Alfred stared back with his empty, blue stare.

"Your evil books of Satan are making me uncomfortable," Alfred commented, taking note of a worn cover on a book which was obviously text on demon-summoning.

"Pay no mind to them. They're only books."

"Right well you said you wanted me to talk, but what do you want me to say?" He asked.

Arthur gave a lazy, bored shrug, "Anything. I thought you might just have venting to do. You might just need someone to hear you out and that's something I can do without much effort." Alfred still wore a rather blank look on his face, eyes still red and puffy from crying. What? Were his tear ducts swollen or something? It sure looked like that. Digression. "I can't exactly sympathize with you much and I'm no good at comforting people," Arthur admitted. He did have brothers. And parents too. Sometimes his siblings got on his nerves, but that didn't mean he wouldn't miss them if they were suddenly gone like this. But they were still alive, and thus, he couldn't even begin to imagine how Alfred felt, loosing a very, very close sibling.

"Well, I don't really have much to say to you." Alfred's voice faltered and the two sat in silence. "Why am I here?" He finally asked, speaking up.

Arthur pursed his lips and furrowed his thick eyebrows at the question. He needed to give his reason, without actually giving his reason. He'd look like a complete buffoon if he jumped into his real excuse. "Ah. Well. I-I think that it'd be hazardous for you to stay in your home while the… the body still resides there. I know you love your twin, but he is still contaminated and limiting your exposure to whatever this illness is, will most definitely help keep you healthy. We wouldn't want you to contract the virus, now would we?" Arthur didn't sound all to sure about this but Alfred didn't question it.

"Can I get you anything?" Arthur asked suddenly to shift the subject.

"Why are you so interested in helping me now?!" Alfred demanded, standing forcefully.

"I-I'm- I just feel pity for you! I know you and Morgan-"

"MATTHEW! Get his freakin' name right!"

"Alright! Alright! Matthew! I know you two were close and it's evident you're having a hard time coping. I may have never been through something quite like this but I can fathom how it must be effecting you. Now! Do you need anything? I'm not much of a cook, but I can make you some tea."

"I'm not… hungry anyway. I just need to rest," Alfred huffed. "But I guess some tea would be nice." He sat back down in the wooden chair as Arthur stood and fetched the brass kettle he kept handy.

"I don't suppose you have a tea preference, do you?"

"Nah. Just whatever," Alfred muttered under his breath. The younger laid his head down on the table, looking as if he were about to cry again but was out of tears.

"Let me know when this whistles. I'll be upstairs collecting some blankets. You'll have to settle for the sofa tonight." And with that Arthur retreated upstairs, leaving Alfred to just stare at the tea kettle over the stove blankly. He was now alone with his miserable thoughts. And from that spot he didn't move. Time seemed to draw out for him as he watched the tea pot and zoned into space. Even when he could detect movement outside the window with its ugly, patterned curtains drawn, he wasn't shaken from his trance.

Two red orbs resembling misshapen doughnuts seemed to light to life outside the glass. The teen, still with an uninterested expression, lifted his head and stared into the glowing ellipses that seemed to just float in the darkness and shadows of the night. They didn't move, or blink as Alfred decided they appeared to be eyes. They only stared back, boring into Alfred like two red lasers. He was so hypnotized by them, he couldn't even hear when there was a knocking and rattling of the glass. He could only tell someone was rapping at the window when the wrist was actually making contact with the window pane, fist tapping at the frame and glass rhythmically as if they wanted in. In his daze, he stood and took a hesitant step towards the window.

"ALFRED!" A shout rang out as the eyes disappeared into the night. There was a soft rustling, and now clear as day he could hear the kettle screaming. Arthur rushed to remove the over boiling pot of water bubbles from the burner and turn the stove off. "I told you to call me when it whistled!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear it."

* * *

**I do hope more people become interested in this! I have so many ideas for it! **


	3. Unwelcome

**[[Here's a shot lil' one for ya!]]**

Alfred stood over the impressive grave Arthur had dug with him. Arthur'd even been so nice as to go get a coffin for Matthew. It wasn't a nice coffin but he really couldn't expect that. It was just a simple, cheap, wooden one, but it would do. They'd put Matthew in the coffin and lowered him down.

"Alfred, we need to close it so we can pack the dirt back in. Are you going to put the stuffed bear in there or not?" Arthur asked, somewhat harshly. He really disliked hard working labor and just wanted it over with as soon as possible.

Alfred looked down at Kumajirou which he had in one hand and then hugged it with both of his arms in a full embrace. To be honest, he actually wanted to keep the bear with him. He wanted something to remember his brother by. And he really didn't want to let go. He'd never really cared for the bear nor did he mind it. But now he just wanted to hold it and be able to feel Matt's presence with it. But Kuma belonged to Matthew and he wanted Matthew to stay united with the bear he held so dearly, even in death. He got down on his knees and sat next to the opening in the ground. He reached down, getting on his stomach to lay Kuma in the coffin with Matt. He hesitated before letting go and much to Arthur's frustration he pulled Kumajirou back up and gave him one final, tight hug before putting him down, lifting one of Matt's arms to tuck him under.

Arthur picked up the lightweight lid to the coffin and waited for Alfred to move his arm out of the way before putting it down.

"I love you, Mattie… Good-bye," Alfred said under his breath as Arthur shifted the lid in place.

Arthur looked at Alfred. He looked like he was about to burst out crying again, which he'd caught him doing on multiple occasions. Like for instance when he brought home that cheap, poorly made coffin. Alfred had collapsed weeping just from looking at it. He did feel pity for him but he still couldn't understand how he was feeling and all the emotions he was going through. He might one day, but then again he didn't really have anyone he cared for as much as Alfred did Matthew. He doubted that he knew anyone at this moment that he'd go through the trouble to make sure they got buried.

"Get your shovel and help me fill it up," Arthur said harshly. He was trying to be firm with Alfred. It seemed to help him get along more. Alfred nodded sadly and grabbed his shovel, not bothering to brush the dirt off of his shirt and pants. "And wipe that dirt off. You're not going back into my house filthy like that." The Brit was covered in grime himself, from a hard day's work, but it was his house he was going into, not Alfred's. Arthur jabbed his shovel in the beaded silt and tossed it over the coffin. It landed with a sort of clap noise against the wood. Arthur continued to do this while Alfred gradually got a move on.

"Chill out, dude. I'm out of your hair now. I gotta upkeep our- er- my house."

"No, now that we've buried Max-"

"Matthew."

"Now that we've buried him, that doesn't mean your house is disease free. I'd prefer it if you stayed with-"

"No you wouldn't. Stop-" He paused to shovel some dirt in. "Lying! I know I'm a nuisance to you so I'm going back to my home." Arthur sighed. He couldn't disagree with him as he was a free man and it would just sound creepy.

"Fine. You're right. You are a bother to care for and you wet the bed and you can't get ahold of your emotions," Arthur huffed.

"How'd you-" Alfred blinked. How'd he know that he did that? He'd kept it a secret and washed the sheets clean himself!

"I saw you take your sheets and go operate the clothes washer. I wasn't sure but it sounds like I'm right. Just like a child."

Alfred pouted and looked away. He felt a little embarrassed and his face felt hot but he couldn't take that crap right now. On top of that… He told himself he didn't care what Arthur thought of him anyways. Or what anyone else thought for that matter. "Jus another reason for me not to hang around your place." Alfred finished shoveling, patted down the dirt and nothing more was said. He just turned and walked away, back into the house he used to share with his beloved, fallen brother.

* * *

That night Alfred was staring at Matthew's empty bed from his own in the room they shared. The loneliness was overwhelming, almost to the point where he forgot to breath. He missed him so much it hurt terribly. He could feel his own chest physically aching every time he thought about it. Something like this was so hard to grasp, every time he tried accepting it as reality he felt as if he were being crushed to death under an invisible weight, pounding again and again on his chest.

Just as he was sitting up to go lay on Matthew's bed he felt a cool exhale on his neck, causing the thin, light hairs to bristle in response. He turned suddenly to face the other person, "Matthew?!" He asked loudly as he turned. His voice faded along with his temporary excitement when he saw that it wasn't Matt. Instead his eyes widened and he scrambled off, falling over the side of his twin bed with a loud thud on the floor.

"You look quite sad, da?" Asked the rather large, Russian sounding man that had stood behind him. He was dressed for the winter, in a heavy beige coat and off-white scarf.

"Who are you and why are you in my house?" Alfred growled.

"I vas just passing through the forest on valk. I got lost and night caught me. I didn't think anyone was here so I helped myself inside."

"Of course someone lives here, dingbat! I live here! And so does… my brother."

"I apologize for scare," the man paused. "You have siblink?" He asked through his thick accent. He stared at Alfred with his hard, violent gaze. The American could just feel the creepy vibes the man gave. "Sorry, how rude. My name is Ivan Braginski. I moved in town vith my family two veeks or so ago."

"Yeah the rich dudes who moved in to the new mansion. 'Splains why you didn't think anyone lived in this shabby ol' place. But seriously, dude. Get out. I don't care if you come from money or whatever. That doesn't matter."

"I didn't think it did. Are you sure I could not bunk vith you tonight in extra bed?" He gestured to Matthew's bed.

"No way dude! My brother sleeps there! You can't!" Alfred hissed. He knew it was sort of insensitive, maybe even selfish but he wasn't going to just let this strange man stay in his house.

"It does not look like your brother is sleepink there."

"Well ya know what he is! And you can't stay here!" Rich dudes thinking they're so privileged.

"I guess I vill go then. Sorry for disturbance. I vas a bit vorried about epidemic but I vill keep safe. Maybe I see you around town later?" Ivan asked, beginning to leave.

"Yeah yeah just… Don't come back here."

He chuckled. "Ah. My li'le sister vas right. You vill be a tough one." He had a childlike grin on his face as he turned to leave the room.

Alfred stared as he left. What was that last part? His little sister? He didn't know any snobby rich girls. What did she know about him?

He heard Ivan leave and then watched him go out and away from his window. Why of all places was he crossing the field and going back in the forest? Alfred was tempted to call the silver-haired man back and offer him the crappy sofa and hole-y blanket downstairs but the last thing he needed was a creepy man sneaking into his house at one in the morning. He got up and went and to the door only to find it was already locked. He frowned. How did Ivan manage to lock it from the inside if he was headed out? All the windows were locked too as he checked. He peered out into the darkness. Ivan was no where to be seen. When Alfred was watching him he seemed to be moving quite slow. So how'd he manage to get across the field and concealed in the woods so fast?

This was a bit worrisome but Alfred went back upstairs nonetheless. What did he care anyways?

**[[Review and tell me your thoughts, please. I'd love to hear them~!]]**


	4. Unsafe

Arthur shuffled to the door, still dressed in his night clothes and tired old slippers. "Who is-" He yawned. "it?"

"C'est moi! Who else?"

"I'm sorry, but you can't come in," Arthur said through the door. He knew exactly who it was with that cocky french accent. "You could be infected," he said simply, swallowing as he did and leaning his head on the wooden door tiredly.

"But Arthur, I'm not infected. I'm not even sure what you're talking about."

Arthur pulled the door open with an exasperated tug and stared at the Frenchman in front of him. "What are you here for, Francis?"

"I came by to visit you, of course! I was actually just passing through but since I 'aven't seen you since… who knows when, I thought I'd drop by," he said, pushing his way through the door frame and taking a seat at the kitchen table. He was obviously very comfortable. He ran his own fingers through his well-cared for, wavy, blond hair. "What's wrong with you? Tu es fatigué?" And he stared at him with his sparkling sky blue eyes.

"Yes, exhausted really. I had a long day yesterday and an even longer night before that," he sighed, moving to put the tea kettle on and begin his morning cup of tea. "Would you like any tea?"

"Why not? You do make pretty decent tea. But please refrain from using your oven while I'm 'ere."

"Of course I do. Wait. What's that supposed to mean, frog?"

"Oh, you know," Francis grinned. "So tell me, what's gotten you all run down?"

"Kid in the next house over," Arthur started leaning on the counter.

"Ah, oui. I remember. The blonde one?"

"Yes, him. His name's Alfred. He lost his brother."

"They were the twins that were moving in last time I visited? "

"Yes," Arthur gave a slow nod and then turned and placed both palms on the counter and gazed out the glossy window at Alfred's house.

"C'est horrible! Such a tragedy! Garçon pauvre!" Francis exclaimed, becoming slightly dramatic over the news. It went silent as he watched the other green-eyed blond watch out the window. "I assume you've been 'elping 'im cope with the death."

"Well. Sort of," Arthur muttered, taking the tea pot off the stove

"Really, Arthur. It's not that hard. You either comforted him or you didn't."

"I tried to comfort him. It's difficult to sympathize with someone over that when you've never been through loosing someone you hold so close." Arthur sighed. He reached up into the cabinet and extracted two cups, causing a clangor when they clacked against the other dishes in the cupboard.

"We should pay him a visit, and I can show you how to comfort people, oui?"

"I'm pretty sure he just wants to be left alone. After I helped him with the burial the other day he just stormed back into his house."

"He may want to be alone but it's not good for his well being. He needs someone there for him, even if he says he doesn't want someone there." Francis leaned back in the chair.

"Well I think we should just let him have some space."

Francis sighed. Arthur obviously didn't get it. The kid probably needed support. Even if it wasn't immediate support. Alfred was pretty much all alone. Arthur peered out the window at Alfred's house and nearly dropped the tea pot. "Francis, I'll be right back. Stay put and only let me in!" He flung open the door and swung it shut just as forcefully, causing the things on the cabinets to clack together. Francis just sat there, relaxed and watched in slight confusion as his friend dashed out. Whereas at first he seemed to be in a great hurry, he slowed to a casual walk as he approached the door, keeping a sharp eye out for the woman also headed to Alfred's.

"Oh hello, miss," Arthur said politely. "What brings you out here at the crack of dawn?" Arthur said smirking with a very sly air about him.

The girl with long platinum blonde hair, tied with a dull blue ribbon a top her head, turned. She stared at him with her cold dark blue, almost violet eyes. But didn't say anything in reply. She only stared at him angrily as if he did something purposefully to anger her.

"Oh, a little shy, I see," he said, putting on a fake laugh. "You're that girl. From the Braginski family that just moved in, correct? Uh, so what? You've got another sister and… how many brothers?"

"I have one bruder," she said almost as if she were fed up with his presence.

"Really? Huh. Only one? I thought I saw-"

"They are more or less servants. Nothing more to me."

"Ah. Servants." She certainly did come from a well-off family. How many servants was that? Three? "Shall I knock on the door?" He asked.

The woman stared him up and down. He was in his pajamas for some reason. She didn't answer him.

"You don't talk very much, do you, uh… What's your name?" He asked, trying to keep up this cheery facade.

"Natalia." She said with narrowed eyes before then turning and walking away at a slow pace. Arthur watched as she did so, green eyes focused hard on her back as if pushing her away. As she walked so calmly her old fashioned indigo colored dress flowed behind her, the white hem dancing in the wind in the most graceful way, yet she still had a haunting aura about her that Arthur was sure was a negative thing.

"Nice meeting you!" Arthur called after her for good measure. But she did not stop or show any sign that she heard him though she was easily within hearing distance. She just continued steadily on and Arthur stared after her. Just at that moment the door swung open and Alfred leaned out. He looked tired. "AH! Alfred! I was hoping you'd be interested in some tea," he said speaking rather loudly, still semi-facing where Natalia was walking.

"Oh… Uh… I guess. Sure," he muttered. He was really confused by the older man's sudden change in attitude towards him. It definitely seemed fake. Especially when he took hold of his hand and pulled him along outside. Alfred noticed Natalia leaving and was about to ask what she was doing there when Arthur shot him a look that clearly had a purpose to shut him up. Arthur kept his faux grin on until Natalia was out of ear shot and they were standing on the doorstep of his house.

"Don't question my actions. I have my reasons that I don't wish to inform you of. Please excuse this morning," he said sternly, knocking on the door to his own house.

Francis pulled it open almost immediately, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Arthur pushed inside and Alfred just stared and didn't follow inside. Arthur looked over his shoulder when he realized Alfred wasn't following him and he was stopped at the door frame. "Alfred?" He asked, panic beginning to work it's way into his voice. When Alfred was able to cross through though a wave a relief washed over the Englishman.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking away from Francis who he'd been watching. Francis only offered a small smile in return since the younger looked traumatized.

"Oh, um. That's my old… friend, you could say. His name is Francis and he thought it'd be a good idea to have you over for some morning tea," Arthur said with a nod in Francis's direction. It had been the Frenchman's idea originally, after all.

"Oui, Je m'appelle Francis! Nice to meet you. I 'eard about your recent loss from Arthur, 'ere, and I say that I'm terribly sorry but I'm open to help in any way."

"Nah, it's… fine. Just. Yeah," he trailed off, taking a seat where Arthur beckoned him to. "Hey, um… What was with that girl you were talking to earlier?"

Arthur made a hard turn to give him an annoyed glare almost in disbelief that Alfred just questioned what happened. He looked at him as if to say, 'What did I just tell you?' But nevertheless he answered. "That was Natalia from the Braginski family. She just moved in with her two siblings and servants."

"Why was she at my house anyway?" He asked. "I heard you two talking outside." Arthur was about to speak again to tell him something made-up before Francis too, questioned what happened.

With a frustrated sigh Arthur began, "I can't really be certain why she was there," which was partially a lie, "only that I know she wasn't there for a positive reason." There was a pause. "If you cross paths with her, find another person to be present. Don't leave your home at night and don't invite her in. Her nor any of her siblings or servants. They're bad news."

Alfred visibly tensed up more. Something about what Arthur just said made his blood feel like it was running cold. Ivan was from the Braginski family too and he had walked right in the previous night.

"Alfred, you didn't invite one of them in did you?" He shook his head, staring at the table in front of him yet completely unfocused. Arthur had stopped with the tea and set it down. His concern for Alfred was growing and it was fairly obvious. "Was one of them in your home?" Alfred met his eyes. He was beginning to look anxious. "Which one?"

"I-Ivan. I think."

"Your home isn't safe anymore. Matthew must've invited the devil in at some point when he was alive."

* * *

**As a friend of mine says, "And the plot thickens." There are probably quite a few errors in here. Sorry. **


	5. Unknowing

**[[Urk- long chapter warning. This one has a lot of information.]]**

Alfred stood up abruptly. "What!? What are you saying? This is ridiculous! Matt got sick! Not killed. Even if he was, he'd never just let someone in! He's too smart! And he'd let me know and-" Alfred suddenly seemed more awake when taking up defense of Matthew. That little Matthew do something as evil sounding as inviting a devil in was crazy! But the younger was cut off by Arthur.

"Calm down, Alfred. All I'm saying is he might've done something, that maybe he had no control over or he didn't know what was happening and did unknowingly. He is the own cause for his own untimely death, I believe. It's all in my theory." Arthur said.

"Dude, you're making like no sense right now! Ya know that? Matt got sick!" He repeated forcefully. "And he was sick like that for a few days when he… when he-" Alfred began to slow as he came to mentioning Matthew's death. "You know," he said in a lowered tone of voice. "But he had that illness that pretty much this town seems to be infected with! The one everyone's dying from so no hospitals have room to help anyone else! And they all end up dying anyways because no one's smart enough to figure out how to stop it!" He said with a sniffle.

Francis watched Alfred. He still seemed to be in unbearable emotional pain over his brother's death. He then looked at Arthur who had served them tea sometime in the midst of Alfred's rant.

"Listen, Alfred. It doesn't make much sense to you now, I know. And I'm sure Francis is just as confused if not more, but he's not fighting against what I'm saying. You should take note of that if you pick up anything that frog does. I think I can help you. All I need for you to do is stay here, listen to me and-"

"Why? Just a few days ago you could care less about what we did or if either of us were sick or dying. You didn't even bother to learn Matt's name until like just now!"

"Well now that I know a little bit more about the situation… I really do want to help you, because if I don't, I'm nearly certain you'll be dead within the week." This seemed to shut Alfred up pretty quickly. He opened his mouth like he was about to question it but closed it again as Arthur continued. "The thing about what's going on is, at this point, the less you know the better. I'll inform you on what to do and how I believe you can protect yourself. It is most definitely going to sound odd. Please, though. I ask that you don't question it. I have some theories about what is… really happening here. But for right now, I think it's best if you keep on believing your brother died from a disease."

"But-"

"Don't question what I say. I'm only a few years older than yourself, but I have extensive knowledge and have done many hours of research regarding things like the paranormal and creatures of demonic nature."

"Tch! Paranormal. You think there's like a ghost or something?"

"A ghost? A poor lost soul committing all these murders? I doubt it. Highly. It doesn't mean though that this "disease" is just an ordinary disease. Not even with today's science can they trace it back or make connections between the victims. They have no knowledge of what's really going on. Therefore I believe that's grounds for assuming it is something else entirely."

"Well… How does this tie in with that girl from earlier? Or Ivan last night?"

"This is going to sound cliche, but I've already said too much. There may come a time, if you live so long, that I'll tell you in a dire situation what's happening in hopes that you'll be able to stay safe. Drink your tea."

Alfred, now thoroughly confused, took his seat again and pulled the tea up to his mouth. It was no longer very hot so he didn't need to watch his tongue.

Arthur watched Alfred taste his tea and eventually gulp it down. That goof. He'd appreciate the tea much more if he slowed down and didn't practically inhale it.

Later that evening, Arthur had gone up to his studio. Francis had offered to do some shopping for him and by the time he got back the sun was already setting so he was invited to stay the night. Alfred had settled to an agreement with Arthur allowing the younger blond to go collect a few things from his and Matthew's house. Just a couple dear belongings that were very few in number anyway. He brought his pillow, Matthew's, and both of their blankets as well. Arthur didn't want to clutter up his house with even more junk than there already was, so Alfred agreed to go back and forth to grab clothing as he needed.

Arthur had also set down some ground rules for Alfred. No leaving after dark. No leaving without informing someone of where he was going. No eating near his old magic books. No talking to anyone he wouldn't ordinarily talk to. No intrusion of Arthur's private study. And absolutely NO inviting anyone inside without Arthur greeting them first. They sounded like rules for a child, but more ways than one Alfred still was one, Arthur found. Of course, Alfred had his objections. Physically he was full-grown, and didn't need adult supervision like that. The British man though, had to remind him that it was for his own safety as old as that sounded. He also told him that he would more likely share his findings with Alfred if he stuck around and just did what he said. Like a carrot and a stick.

Arthur was now in his study, which was just a room crammed full of books. There was an old wooden desk, stained with tea spills hiding underneath a display of disorganized papers. He had taken his seat in his old, green, cushioned spinning-chair which was tearing on the sides of the cushion, its yellowed, discolored stuffing peeking out. He spread the papers around, looking through them. He'd recorded most of his observations and theories down on these masses of papers. In one messy shove, he slid about half of them off the table. For when he'd met Natalia on her way to Alfred's and when Alfred said Ivan had been inside his home, about half of his theories were disproved. He was now certain the Braginskis had something to do with all of this. He'd suspected them from the very beginning.

At first he'd only had thought of one idea upon taking notice the epidemic only seemed to break out when they arrived. To build on that, he added since they were foreigners, maybe they'd brought along something that the townspeople here were not immune to. That would make sense too considering none of the people in their household had contracted anything. That speculation was still on the table of course. Though his other observations suggested it wasn't simply as innocent as that, he couldn't afford to make any false assumptions entirely. For now he simply kept focused on the ideas concerning the newcomers to town and put some of his few other plausible ideas off to the side in which the Braginskis were innocent.

Most of his Braginski theories had spawned off of that starting one and at first they were all a lot more mild than the ones he'd currently come up with. A majority of the ideas sounded idiotic, even the ones he'd found to be most fitting. He decided to expand upon what could be true if this so-called "epidemic" was actually not an epidemic or even an illness at all. At first the Brit tried to go with the more sane theory that there was a murderer amongst the family that had just moved in. Or maybe even the entire family was guilty. But quickly after he'd thought about this one, he put it away. A family of murderers didn't explain the display of symptoms, usually beginning three, four, sometimes even five days before death. Of course they could have some biological agent that they used to poison them but from what he'd heard from rumors anemia seemed to be a common problem amongst the dying patients.

After the circumstances didn't support that theory very well, only then did he turn to the more outlandish ones. To someone not constantly surrounding him or herself with black magic, dark folk-lore, or the occult,- these ideas would sound like those of an insane person. And maybe Arthur was just the tiniest bit insane but he believed them. There was no evidence, no proof that any of his tales were soundly fake.

And from what he gathered about the Braginskis, these could very well be true. He brushed some papers over, spreading them out some and eyeing them. He was feverishly adding onto his ideas, body bent over the table. He'd found himself down to the speculation that the Branginski family was indeed of demonic nature. In fact the story sounded brilliantly similar to a series of accounts from way back when of demonic animals of the night, feasting on and draining all life from the population.

Now there were a variety of different monsters this family could possibly be, and the folklore changed from nation to nation. They could be some demon life form, or maybe something else. Arthur was leaning more towards demons since they ultimately have a lot of power and one could never know what to expect even when dealing with known types of demons. They also fit the description of a traditional type of vampire. There hadn't been any accounts of break-ins, or so the British gentleman believed. He had been visited by Ivan a good time ago, around the time the man first moved in with his sisters and servants. He'd denied him entry to his home when he asked and simply walked away. He didn't even try again.

Vampires were very strange to imagine in one's own reality, but Arthur could find himself able to believe it could he get enough information off of them. There was only one problem with this thinking. Until that morning, he hadn't seen any of the Braginski family out during the day which was another key that held this idea together considering his lacking information relating them to vampires. He'd actually seen Natalia out and about in broad daylight. And this is what made him remember that he could still be wrong. They could not even be vampires and he had to keep that in mind. Otherwise his accusations were dangerous. After all the only real proof he had after this morning was that they always seemed to be prowling at night but couldn't get inside unless invited. It was probably only a courtesy thing. And the night time lurking could be just from the fact that it was then currently day time in their home country. It's not like it definitely meant that they were nocturnal.

He stood abruptly after some hard thinking. All of his ideas were so farfetched. He just didn't know what to think. The green-eyed man would definitely have to go back through the ideas he'd thrown away, excluding the suspicious newcomers. The Brit left his studio and walked down the stairs, slowing to a stop as he heard Francis and Alfred. He frowned and then continued down the stairs.

Alfred was lying out on the couch in his pajamas. He had his pillow under his head, and his brother's in his arms. Both blankets were laid over him and he was positioned on his side. Francis was in a dusty rocking chair, chin resting on one palm as he was listening to Alfred.

"I'm going off to bed soon. I'm just checking the locks down here." It was for the most part completely dark outside, save for a dim, flickering porch lamp.

"Alright. Bon," Francis replied. "Arthur, Alfred was just telling me about Matthew," he said simply. Arthur's and Alfred's as met as the two looked at each other.

"Is that so?" Arthur looked away and gripped the door knob, twisting at it. When he was definitely sure it was locked, he walked back in the room and leaned on the door frame.

"Oui. You should really sit and listen too. He's got a lot of interesting things to share. I'm glad we were able to talk," Francis said. Of course he was feeling proud of himself. He'd gotten Alfred to open up to him some about his life with Matthew before this. Arthur, though he felt sort of heartless, rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"No, I… I just. No. I'm going to bed," he said looking down. He could feel Alfred staring at him. And now that frog had succeeded in actually making him feel guilty. He knew Arthur wasn't as socially savvy as he was when it cmd to bonding with people. He was far more reserved about forming friendships and relationships and all that.

"Ah, well that's your choice, but I think it'd benefit the both of you to get to at least understand each other." Francis brushed his hair out of his face. "Actually, before you do that. I'd like to talk to you myself. Bon noir, Alfred. I'll see you in the morning." He got up and walked out of the room with Arthur. Alfred didn't say a word. He just waved and then wrapped both his arms tightly around Matthew's pillow.

When Alfred was out of earshot, Francis and Arthur turned to talk to one another in the upstairs hallway. "Really, you couldn't at least listen to him? I 'ate to brag but I think it did him a lot of good 'aging me to listen to him. He got a lot off his chest and now he knows that he 'as someone he can talk to."

"It's not like you solved all his problems. You can't just stop him from being depressed just from being there to hear him out."

"Oui, that is true. He did break down some during out little chat, but he told me a lot and felt a lot better afterwards. I could tell. I told you so, did I not?"

"Frog! It's not like you're going to be hanging around. You are not a psychologist. Stop pretending to be his friend!"

"Who says I'm pretending? That's pretty 'arsh of you say, non?"

"It may be but really. You said you were just passing through and you shouldn't be giving him a crutch to lean on if you're just going to jerk it out from under him. I'm not sure if you noticed but I'm not very good at getting along with him."

"You're not good at getting along with me either and we're friends. And I don't believe I'd be doing that. He knows I'm not planning on staying. It just 'elps to let everything out."

Arthur sighed. "Fine. I don't care. Do whatever. I don't really care. All I need to do is keep him out of death's reach."

Francis followed Arthur as he went to his bedroom, only to have the door shut in his face. So he leaned on it. "Arthur, if you really don't care then why are you trying to keep him alive?"

"Because. The guilt would be overwhelming if I knew how to keep him safe and I just let him die." Arthur spoke through the door. It was true. He didn't need the guilt lingering over him the rest of his life. He just didn't want to confess that he might actually care about his obnoxious neighbor. "Go sleep on the other couch. It has a cover over it, just move it and use the cushions. There is a quilt laid over the top."

"That's not the only reason," Francis said, returning to their topic.

"Ok. Maybe I pity him. Now please leave me alone and let me sleep. It's late."


	6. Undead

**[[This one's a lot shorter than the last but here's some action for ya. To those who are actually taking their time to read this, there's a treat at the end! Also, there are tons of typos I bet. Sorry.]]**

* * *

Alfred's heart was pounding in his chest and in this moment the branches lashing out and whipping his legs, the sharp pebbles he stepped upon were nothing. He didn't even heed the dulling light as he was lured farther into the woods. It had been a few days since he started staying with Arthur and earlier that afternoon, Arthur had to go run errands. He had invited Alfred to go along or stay in the house but Alfred chose to stay. He'd just dozed off by the window, staring at Matthew's grave and when he'd woken it had looked… different. It wasn't hard to figure out what had changed. Everything was exactly how it had been, except the makeshift "tombstone" was gone.

Alfred, caring for his brother as much as he did even after his untimely death, had leapt up and hurried outside to look around. That's when he spotted the fabric of black clouting, flowing behind someone as they ran into the evening, sunlight barely peeking in through the woods that shrouded them. In a blind fury, realizing a thief had stolen the tombstone for whatever reason, Alfred had raced into the forest after the grave robber.

He was dashing into the woods, and as previously mentioned, his pulse going fast. He was breathing hard and running out of energy fast. As long as he could just keep the their within his sights…

But he couldn't and as the sky blackened not only did he realize he could no longer see the other he'd been chasing, but he wasn't sure which direction his and Arthur's houses were. He looked around, frantic, yet his thoughts still contained much anger. It wasn't so much about the fact the headstone was gone, as it was that someone had the nerve to steal it.

His eyes searched around. Dying sunlight still peeked through some of the tree branches but it wasn't much to see by. He turned this way, whipping his head that way. He was by himself, lost in the woods after dark. Had the circumstances been different, he would've seen this as a chance for adventure. But leaving the house after dark was one of Arthur's rules. He said that he made those rules all for a specific reason he really didn't need to know as long as he followed them. Too bad he didn't.

Alfred sighed and began walking in the direction he believed he just came from. He froze though as he felt a tingling sensation in his neck as the hairs stood on end. He turned and almost smacked into a man. He looked up into the violet eyes of Ivan. The younger American stumbled backwards.

"Privet," said the thickly accented, Russian voice. "It is gettink very late, da?" Alfred eyes wandered over the Russian, narrowing when he saw Matthew's headstone in his clutches.

"Uh… yeah. You have my brother's tombstone. You know the way back to my place?" Alfred asked, backing up. This guy just had a very creepy vibe.

"Oh. So I do," He sighed, not making an effort to even look down at it, let alone move it. "I know vay back. I can show you, but I am very hungry, you see. May I feast in return for the directions? Not that directions matter."

"Uh, well I dunno about a feast. I can barely afford anything on my own," he muttered. "Why'd you take it?"

"Vhat I'm lookink for does not cost money," Ivan said, ignoring Alfred's questions. Ivan loomed closer, extending a gloved hand towards Alfred. The young blonde looked up at the glimmering, purple-shaded eyes of the other man. While they were enchanting, there was also a hungry gleam that made Alfred's stomach turn. He couldn't bring himself to tear his stare away from meeting the other's. They stood in silence before Ivan closed his eyes and tilted his head.

"I'm getting very impatient now," Ivan said coldly, voice not loosing it's almost childishly agitated tone. When he opened his eyes again, however they were like empty black holes, with only two red, elongated orbs glowing brightly. "You shouldn't keep me vaiting for my meal. It is impolite, da?" And then Ivan moved in. Alfred, desperately scrambled back, only to feel the heavily coated, yet obviously strong and muscular arms wrap around him. One of Ivan's hands snaked up and pulled Alfred's head to the side, exposing his soft, unscarred neck, his skin seeming to glow in the rising moonlight through the trees. Ivan licked his lips and opened his mouth wide, two long fangs sprouting from behind his canines.

Then there was a sudden rush of air as Ivan made a choking sound and was pulled back. He felt a second pair of arms wrap around his upper chest and the top of his head. His neck was pried open and he frantically squirmed, only catching glimpses of Ivan's first shocked, then angered look, red eyes raging as he launched himself at Alfred and whoever was dragging him back. That's when he felt two needle pricks in the side of his neck. The fangs drove in further until he could feel the wet mouth of whoever it was on his neck, sucking the blood that pumped out of the vein that had just been pierced open. His mouth was open in a silent scream for help, gasping for air. His baby blue eyes were wide with fear, beginning to spill tears. He was so confused. What was going on? Why was he being attacked- being bitten by other human beings?! Were they human? He didn't even know! His mind felt like it was a mess. Nothing made sense. In a frenzy he tried pulling the mystery figure off him and in a matter of moments Alfred was beginning to feel lightheaded. His dizziness made him see double.

He heard Ivan yell something angrily about how he lost his meal, but it sounded distant, like they were standing at either end of a long hallway. Ivan's voice seemed to echo and Alfred's vision became even more blurred as he slumped forward, glasses slipping off his face and onto the ground. He saw a blob make it's way over. It was Ivan and he- he raised his hand and… slapped? Yes, he slapped the other, and gave the both of them a harsh shove, sending Alfred down on top of the slightly smaller, unfamiliar, figure behind him. As he felt the fangs rip from his throat, leaving the sticky blood trailing down his neck and staining the collar of his hoodie, he heard a voice. Even though it was most likely belonging to the person under him it still sounded far away. He coughed a little as he tried to wiggle away and turn to see the monster who'd bitten him but he was met with the same blood red eyes as Ivan. That's all he could make out about his second attacker, but he collapsed into unconsciousness at his last attempt to move.

* * *

When Alfred came to again he was being dragged. He wondered how the hell he was alive and for a minute he felt the earth and all the leaves, grass, and twigs it was littered with scratch and pull at his back, on occasion feeling a pebble scrape down his bare skin where his jacket had slid up. He'd feel himself come to a stop as if the person dragging him paused ever other step. He craned his neck slightly, trying to see who it was. The muscle in his neck, though, was sore from where he'd been violently bitten into. He couldn't exactly make out who was dragging him. It was too dark. Even should his eyes adjust, he'd need his glasses.

"Are you… the one that bit me?" He asked groggily. Upon hearing his voice, the figure jumped. That's when the person stopped and glanced down at him. He didn't recognize the luminescent red ellipses that once lit up the otherwise, pitch black eyes. The blur crouched next to Alfred and right up next to his face. The blue-eyed blonde squinted and tried to make out the other, which in this lighting was difficult even at a short range distance. He felt something prod his face, so he slowly lifted his arm and took the object- his glasses. Alfred slid them on and squinted, waiting for his eyes to adjust. When he finally got a clear visual of the monster's face his heart skipped a few beats. He was so confused. It was terrifying.

"I'm sorry, Al. I had to bite you. Otherwise Ivan would have and gotten control over you. I couldn't let him be the one to do that to you because you're my bro-"

"No! Stop!" Alfred scrambled away, staring in disbelief at his pale-skinned brother. "W-what's going on?! Matt are you-? You c-can't-" he choked, tears beginning to stream down his face. Matthew watched him sadly.

"I am dead. Undead," he replied softly, reaching a hand out. Hesitantly, Alfred moved towards Matthew. He didn't take his hand though. He was shaking too much.

"M-matthew," he choked out. "Why? What's going on?" He asked.

"I'll have to explain it to you later," he said softly. "I'll tell you everything, but right now I need to get back inside, away from the sun before it rises. I've been hiding out in our house. And I hate to complain but I'm tired. Holding out on Ivan long enough that he has to flee to escape the sun takes a lot." Alfred didn't get what Matthew was saying. It still looked pretty dark to him, but whatever he could do to get an explanation faster. He was still almost certain he was just having a bad dream. He'd held Matthew while he died in his arms. He'd sobbed over his body and buried it with Arthur. The British man had seen it too, Matthew so cold and still. It just wasn't logical that he'd be standing here again, talking, moving, feeding… There was no sense.


	7. Unaccompanied

**[[Another middle-of-the-night chapter! WOOP WOOP!]]**

* * *

Alfred laid over Matthew's bed, arms outstretched, lying limp, over his brother's body in a protective manner. He clutched the covers in both fists as he stared off into space at the door. It was much like it was the evening Matthew died, except lacking the tears and crying. He was simply drained at the moment, literally too. His eyes were closed and he was attempting to sleep but he was pretty shaken up from the previous night so he resorted to relaxing. That was before he heard Arthur's voice downstairs.

"Alfred?" There was silence and some footsteps. "Alfred?!" The call was louder this time and he heard the British man scurrying up the steps. All he did to acknowledge him was open his eyes. He spotted Arthur slide in. The older man looked as if he was about to run and hug him but was restraining himself from doing so. "Alfred! Where- What? I told you not to leave! I'm trying to keep you safe! Honestly! You-" He paused. "You had me… worried," he sighed, looking Alfred up and down. He looked pale, sort of sickly. "What happened to you?" He asked, moving over to kneel beside him.

Alfred was still in shock from Arthur saying he'd actually been worried. Since when did he even care about Alfred that much? He felt Arthur press the back of his hand against his forehead. "Alfred you feel cold, goodness, why don't you-" He stopped, as he pulled up the cover to put over Alfred, seeing Matthew. His eyes seemed to widen and he stared. Alfred lifted up his head. He was about to speak when Arthur started again.

"Alfred, why do you have your brother's corpse here?" He asked as Alfred ripped the covers from his hand and pulled them back over Matthew. "What did you do? Where were you last night?"

"He's not a corpse! Matthew's ali-"

"Alfred, the thing in this bed is not alive. It has no pulse."

"But I saw him! HIM! Not IT! He moved and he saved me from-"

"From what?" Arthur asked harshly. Not only had Alfred broken one of his rules, now he had gotten himself in danger that the green-eyed man probably couldn't help.

"I was out in the woods last night and I was attacked I guess… by Ivan. He had taken Matt's gravestone and lured me out with it. I'm not sure what he was trying to do but then Matt showed up and got me away from him!"

"How? He's so small compared to that brute of a man! And he's dead! What did Ivan try to do anyways? Was he going to harm you?"

"He's not dead! I'm telling you! And I'm not sure what Ivan was going to do…" Alfred panted a little bit out of exhaustion.

"If he's not dead then wake him up now!"

"I can't! He's resting. Well… This is probably crazy but I think that Ivan, and Matt too now, are vampires. To save me from Ivan, Matthew bit me," he said, revealing the two red, now scabbed marks on his neck. Arthur stared in shock. "And he said he'd need to do it again when he woke up at some point because he'd be thirsty. He didn't tell me a lot and he didn't directly say he was a vampire or Ivan was. He just told me that he needed to bite me to save me and he didn't want to hurt me but in order to stay strong enough to protect me he'd need blood. He also said that he can't stay awake during the day and that I need to keep him covered with a blanket. And that's all."

Arthur's shocked expression remained, only slowly fading.

"It's alright if you don't believe me, Matthew will tell you when he wakes up." Alfred let out a yawn and he laid down his head on the lump under the covers. "We just have to wait until night."

"Alfred! You idiot!" Alfred jumped at Arthur's sudden outburst. "Don't you understand what's going on?! It doesn't matter if Matthew doesn't want to hurt you! He is going to kill you!" Alfred looked sort of hurt but only clung more to his twin's body. "If what you are saying is true… I believe this is what's happening to everyone. No I haven't seen anyone else rise up, this is the first case I've heard of this and it is quite shocking though I expected something of the like… This must be why everyone's dying. I mean ALFRED! Look at you! He's only had one bite and you look like you barely have enough energy to blink! He could very well kill you the next time you let him bite you! Or the time after that!"

"Well… He has to feed and… I really don't mind. If he kills me, maybe I'll rise up too! It does sound sort of cool."

"Alfred, you aren't grasping the situation. You would DIE. I can't just let that happen to you. Alfred, please understand this."

"Why do you even care so much?! You've never liked me and it'd probably be a big relief to you if I was just… gone. Out of your hair. After I rose up, I could just be with Matthew just like when he was alive. You wouldn't have to worry."

"And what if you don't rise up? Then, Alfred, Matthew would have to suffer your loss and grieve just as you did over him. Do you want him to go through that?" Arthur asked, feeling almost victorious when Alfred flinched and it seemed to hit home.

"How do you know not everyone rises up?"

"Alfred, if this is the "epidemic" with the death toll we've seen, if everyone rose up I highly doubt we wouldn't even be here or we would at least have spotted some of the other victims at night. We do live in the outskirts, yes, but with the decrease in population being so large, if everyone rose up, the remaining citizens wouldn't be enough to feed them. We'd be outnumbered."

Alfred looked down. "But. Arthur, I can't let him starve. He's my twin brother. What do I do?"

"We could get rid of him. Leave him here and go into my house. From what I've observed, I think you have to invite them in. They just can't walk in. So if we're in my house we should be safe from him."

Alfred looked down at Matthew sort of sadly. "I want to be with him though. I just got him back."

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh and rolled his eyes. Alfred was so stubborn and he felt like he'd been so close! "Alfred! Your life is on the line!"

"I don't care! I don't have a single other person in this world! Matthew's been the only one there for me. Ever! We were all each other needed and I can't handle being so alone without him! Right now I don't care what you say, dude. I've decided I'm staying with him. And he can drink my blood if he needs to. If you're so worried about death then just go back to your life and keep on living like you were before hand, all safe and stuff. Don't… worry about me. And stop pretending you care."

"Wh- I'm-" Arthur stuttered for a minute. "I'm not pretending to care! But you know what- fine! I'll go back to living my life. I'll forget about trying to help you. Trying to save your life. If that's what you want and you're going to be so stubborn about it then that's how it'll be. If you believe I don't care then… fine. I won't anymore." There was a stoning silence between the two. "I'm sorry I even helped your stubborn arse to begin with." Alfred opened his mouth to speak but then Arthur talked again. "You weren't alone completely. I was fully ready to survive this with you. And Francis too. He wanted to be your friend too. You're just too dense to see it." With that, Arthur left.

* * *

Arthur, later in the evening, had done a lot of thinking. He found himself believing that he really wanted nothing more than to drag Alfred's arse back to his home and keep him safe no matter what he said or did. Whether it was something to do with his pride and not wanting to loose an argument, or he actually found himself really caring for the younger blond, was beyond him. He sat there, staring at the door, wishing Alfred would come crawling back for help, admitting he was wrong.

It's not like Arthur ever had anything against his brother. Matthew was just a bloodthirsty corpse now. Arthur sipped his tea, now deep in thought. He couldn't help himself but wondering about Alfred. It had been dark outside for a while. Had Matthew woken up? Had he needed to feed? Was Alfred ok? Even though he didn't want to he had a feeling he'd be trudging back over to the twins' place in the morning. At least that's what he assumed until he heard a knock. In a rush of hope that it was Alfred coming to senses, he sprung up, unlocked, and opened the old wooden door without a second thought.

* * *

**[[Please review~ I love hearing your thoughts and ideas.]]**


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